


Hoist the Colours

by Casstea



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Crack, M/M, Q is a pirate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 11:45:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/722916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casstea/pseuds/Casstea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Pineapple Revolution they called it. Whispers in the dark, rumours in the port which followed Q like a shadow wherever he berthed.</p><p>(Or Q has to save James by finding a Pineapple, and pirates are involved)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hoist the Colours

**Author's Note:**

> This is crack. Pure and utter crack.
> 
> Title is taken from the PoC3 track with the same name. The images of Q James sees are based off the pictures by Rum which can be found [here.](http://rerumfragmenta.tumblr.com/post/45136293133/and-this-is-all-cass-fault-i-ii). The old man is taken from Monty Python's Holy Grail, and a few of the track titles are taken from Les Mis. In essence - if you recognise it, I don't own it.
> 
> Special thanks to the 00Qbb chat enablers - Play, Kelli, Rum and Twilight who have all helped create this monster that is the Pineapple Revolution. May the Pineapple be with you all!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own James Bond or the multitude of references mentioned in this. This is written for fun and not for profit.

“Do you know where the Pineapple is kept?” Q asked, pressing the blade of his cutlass against the other Captain’s throat. He might have been the smaller man, but he had his reputation that would strike the fear into the hearts of most who sailed the same seas as himself.

The Pineapple Revolution they called it. Whispers in the dark, rumours in the port which followed Q like a shadow wherever he berthed.

 _Well,_ Q considered, _people will make monsters out of thin air. Who am I to stop them having a bit of fun?_

“I don’t know,” the other captain said, tried to lean away from Q’s cutlass. However, the captain, a _Mr Carlos Seablast,_ was held firmly in place by two of Q’s larger crew members.

“Were. Is. The. Pineapple?” Q repeated slowly, enunciating each word carefully. He moved his face closer to Carlos’, his expression darkening. The image of James’ still form on the bed back in Tortuga, pale and weak from his illness, lurked in the back of Q’s mind. It was the image which had been driving him for the past week, pushing him and his crew through some of the worst weather that had been seen in recent memory.

“You were the last reported man to have seen it,” Q whispered into Carlos’ ear, “I want to know where it is.”

Carlos whimpered in fear. Q smiled mercilessly, raising his eyebrow as if to encourage Carlos to say the location.

“North,” Carlos said, spitting in Q’s face “beyond the Fury Island, there you find your precious _pineapple.”_

Q wiped the spittle off his face with the back of his sleeve, stepping away from Carlos and lowering his sword.

“I would kill you for that insult,” Q remarked, “but I fear that your crew will do that for me.” He gestured to Carlos’ crew who were looking at their captain with a hunger in their eyes. No crew liked to be commandeered, or have their captain be made of such weak character.

Q raised his sword high, stepping back towards the boarding plank that lay between Carlos’ ship and his own dear _Aston,_ ensuring that every gaze was directed upon him.

“Let no man forget!” Q called out over the sound of the flogging rigging that rattled high in the mast, “that this man, Carlos, was a traitor to your all!”

 _Well, not technically,_ Q thought, _but it will be enough for the crew to turn on their captain._

With that, Q turned swiftly and dashed across the boarding plank and onto his ship. The wind blew his coat wide, the golden embroidery on the edges flashing in the sunlight. James thought that the coat was ostentatious, but Q liked it. It gave him a certain flair that he would otherwise not possess.

“Cast off!” Q ordered, jumping back onto the _Aston,_ nodding to his First Mate Tanner who was at the helm, “we make for Fury Island!”

His call was taken up by the _Aston’s_ crew, who scrambled into action, some cheering for Q as they climbed the rigging. Q glanced back at Carlos, who was looking more and more uneasy as he crew surrounded him. His end would come soon; after all, the world of the pirate was not for the faint hearted.

“Set a course North, Mr Tanner!” Q cried, clambering up the steps to the quarterdeck. They were going to find the Pineapple and return in time to save James.

Q was sure of it.

x-x-x

The _Aston_ rounded the head of Fury Island in an eerie calm. The boat creaked and groaned in the still air as the empty sails curled and collapsed in the still wind. All of the crew had their swords drawn, eyes scanning the tall cliffs that towered above them. They were far from the shore line, yet jagged rocks jutted out into the ocean like the teeth of a monster waiting to consume them all.

Q squirmed against the ropes which held him to the mast. It was a fools’ cause, to try and listen to the Siren’s call, but Q was confident his ship would not be drawn onto the rocks by their allusive call. The rest of the crew had their ears tightly stoppered with cotton wool so they could not hear any of the siren’s songs.

Then Q heard it.

It was a murmur at first, Q could barely hear it. Yet as the voices grew in harmony, Q could being to make out the words.

 _“_ One Pineapple more?” Q said, confused. The Sirens continued to sing, although at this range a few of them were clearly struggling to punch out the last finishing note, their voices raspy and distorted.

The song finished, and Q slumped against the mast. These Sirens were nothing to be afraid of! Their singing was not alluring in the slightest - Q had heard much more alluring singing coming from the rousing voices of his drunk crew before.

“Oh please,” Q remarked, as they continued to pass the headland, “I dreamed a Pineapple? That has to be one of the worse titles in existence.”

One of the harpies screamed in annoyance. Obviously they had heard Q’s comment.

Their passage continued past Fury Island, leaving the wails of the Sirens in their wake. The wind picked up once more, and Q was untitled from the mast and joined Tanner back on the Quarterdeck. The sea air swirled around them as they continued to head north, the wind running behind them, towards where Carlos had said the Pineapple was kept.

x-x-x

Pineapple Island, Q considered, was a bit of a disappointment.

It was more a small patch of sand in the shape of a Pineapple, with one lone single tree in the middle of it. The island may not look like much, but Q was determined to search the island for the Pineapple which would save James, even if it  could be a fruitless task. He waved his hand, ordering the crew to lower a boat which would take him onto the shore.

Tanner rowed them into the shore, Q squinting against the sunlight to try and make out what was on the Island. A man stood under the single tree, waving at their boat. He seemed to be dressed in nothing more than a dirty loincloth, and had a long wild beard that would suit his deserted home.

The boat scraped against the sand, and Q jumped out before Tanner could dock the oars. The man danced down the dune towards where Q was standing. Q tried to keep his face straight, but it was a rather hilarious sight.

“Are you looking for the Pineapple?” the man asked, his voice raspy and high pitched like a child’s.

“Yes,” Q asked, his desperation to get the Pineapple and save James overcoming him, “do you have it?”

“First,” the man said, dramatically waving his arms, “you must answer me these questions three,”

“What questions?” Q looked at the man with disgust, “I wasn’t expecting a test,”

“ _What_ is your favourite colour?”

“Blue,” Q remarked, tugging at the sleeves of his coat. He was getting rather impatient with this man’s trivialities.

“ _What_ is your name?” the man continued, peering at Q with an expression Q was sure that the human face could not contort to make.

“Q,” Q sighed, hand shifting towards the hilt of his sword. If the man took any longer, Q would have to kill him, if not for his own sanity.

“Finally,” the man peering closely at Q. His breath smelt of rotten eggs, making Q pull back in disgust, “is a tomato a fruit or a vegetable?”

“Fruit,” Q replied, his face darkening “can I have the pineapple now?”

“Of course,” the man said, sounding delighted. He dashed back up the sand dune, limbs flailing wildly. A few minutes later, he returned with the pineapple in hand. Q snatched the fruit from the man, nodding once in thanks before running back towards the boat, where Tanner had just finished sorting out the oars.

“Back to the _Aston!”_ Q cried.

“But I’ve only just finished tidying up!” Tanner protested.

“Now!” Q said, holding the Pineapple aloft, “we must return home to save James from his most terrible of all fates.”

“Okay then,” Tanner remarked, rolling his eyes at Q, “no need to be dramatic about it,”

x-x-x

James knew he was hallucinating. After all, Q definitely did _not_ have a Pineapple as a head.

“I’m your Pineapplemaster, James,” Q said cheerily.

“What?” James asked. The world was still spinning around him, only Q seemed to be unaffected. James shook his head, trying to break out of the hallucination, but it was no use. Instead, Q’s shape wavered, as a blue _thing_ appeared in his arms.

It was another pineapple.

“Look at our baby, James,” Q said, stroking the pineapple. James scrambled in his bed, trying to back away from the hideous monstrosity of Q that his ill mind had concocted for him.

“Get away from me!” James cried, looking around the room for something to defend himself with. However, the dream state he was in seemed to prevent him from turning his head, like it was held in an invisible vice.

Q then proceeded to slice up the pineapple in his arms, conjuring a fork out of mid air as he held the slices of fruit aloft as if they held some magical power.

“Look James,” Q said, his voice full of manic and glee, “it’s cannibalism,”

“You’re just a dream,” James’ words slurred as the room begun to spin faster and faster, “you’re just a dream."

Blackness claimed him.

x-x-x

“Will it work?” Q asked the herbalist, as she crushed the pineapple to make a foul smelling concoction. James was still fitting in the other room, Q could hear his cries through the thin wall, cries which were making him shiver with fear.

“There is no magical answer,” the herbalist replied, adding a precise amount of crushed leaves into the mixture, before mashing it into the concoction with her pestle, “your partner is far gone, Captain Q, this may not be enough.”

Q gripped the hilt of his sword tightly. It had to be enough to save James it _had_ to. He had pushed his crew harder than ever before to make the return journey to Tortuga in just over two days.

“James has to be saved,” Q said through gritted teeth.

The herbalist continued to work as if she had not heard Q’s comment. Her hair braids clattered against one another as she poured a liquid Q did not recognise into the mixture, swilling it around carefully, and the pouring it into a mug. Sniffing it once to ensure that it was ready, she held the mug up to Q with a warning look in her eyes.

“Three drops only,” she remarked. Q nodded stiffly, grabbing the mug and hurtling into James’ room.

The sight of James so helpless was like a punch to the gut. His skin was a deathly white and covered with a sheen of sweat. Q sat heavily on James’ bed, one hand curling around his neck, the other lifting the mug towards James’ lips.

“Come on, James,” Q muttered, as he followed the herbalist’s instructions carefully, only allowing three drops of the liquid to touch James’ lips. Q held his breath as he waited, heart hammering as he scanned James’ face for some sign that it had worked.

Then James opened his eyes.

“Q?” he asked, his voice parched from his illness, “is that really you?”

“Welcome back,” Q said, pulling James into a warm embrace, “welcome back.”


End file.
